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Thirty six

Rosy sank into the couch in her living room, holding a glass of juice. Her body felt heavy, worn out after hours of signing files and sitting through endless meetings.

She was wearing a tiny crop singlet and a bum shorts, and she looked too drained to care about anything at the moment.

Her phone buzzed, a reminder notification, she opened it—A text from Thalia.

"Hey bitch!"

Rosy snorted, she replied back —"Hey."

She had forgotten to reply earlier, she’d been busy in a ...

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